Healing
by stardust923
Summary: Draco returns to England after spending the immediate post-war years abroad, only to find that things have changed.  Hermione is suddenly a big part of his life, courtesy of his old friends.  Dramione, EWE.
1. Prologue: The Return

**Disclaimer: **As usual, nothing you recognize belongs to me. I'm just borrowing them to play for a while.

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><p>Blaise yawned as he walked into the kitchen to start the coffee maker, tiredly rubbing the back of his neck. He was just reaching into a cupboard to grab a mug when he heard the faint sound of the fireplace activating and someone stepping into the townhouse, signaling the arrival of someone via floo. Unconcerned, he leaned back on the counter to wait for the coffee to finish brewing, knowing that anyone able to enter uninvited had been keyed into the wards.<p>

"Blaise!" came the shout from the sitting room. "Dammit Zabini, are you home?"

The tall Italian wizard started at the voice in incredulity and walked out of the kitchen. "Malfoy? What are you doing here, at," he checked the clock on the mantle, "seven in the morning? I thought you were in France."

"Obviously not." He strode into the kitchen, leaving Blaise standing bemused before the fireplace. "Is that coffee I smell?" he called over his shoulder.

"Of course, you know I always have coffee in the morning. Keep it down, would you?"

"Why? You're clearly already awake." Suddenly the blond smirked, noting the second cup that his friend had placed on the granite counter. "Have company, do you?"

Blaise sighed. "Something like that. Not what you think, though."

"Mmm hm. Sure it's not."

"No, really, it's not –"

"Whatever mate," Draco said, waving him off. "Not like I care about your conquests. I just thought I'd let you know I'm moving back to England this week."

"You're – what?" Blaise shook his head a little, the previous subject temporarily forgotten. "When was this decided? I thought you had planned to stay in Bordeaux."

"No, mother planned to stay there. I was never a huge fan of the idea, but I wasn't about to leave mother alone after the war." He faltered, remembering the state Narcissa had been in after his father's death. "Anyway, I'm staying at the manor for now, but I thought I'd let you know what was going on."

"At seven in the morning? After no contact with wizarding Britain for three years?"

"Merlin, has it really been so long?" Draco pondered.

"I think Pansy was the last of us to hear from you, and that was only you RSVPing no for her wedding."

"Ah," he winced. "Did she take it badly?"

"You know Pans. She ranted about hexing you for a day or two, then got caught up in a wedding crisis and forgot about you. Something about ribbons for the bouquets, I think."

"Ribbons?"

"Who knows," Blaise said wryly as he poured coffee into his mug. "In any case, you're coming back?"

"Yes, now that things have settled. Mother is doing much better, especially now that she has re-established herself in the social circles there, and I finally found a competent manager for the French branch of Malfoy Holdings." Draco grabbed another mug from the cabinet and poured coffee for himself. "I thought it was time to come back."

"You're staying, then?" Blaise asked, staring at the blond as he sipped his coffee. "Permanently, I mean."

Draco nodded. "It'll be good to be home," he mused. "France is fine, but I never felt like I belonged there, even when I was amongst family. I grew up here, all my friends are here. I suppose I just wanted to be back where everything is familiar."

"Not everything is going to be familiar," Blaise muttered, frowning slightly.

Draco shot him a curious look. "What?"

"Look," sighed the Italian wizard, putting down his cup of coffee. "You've been away for a long time, and haven't kept in touch. A lot of things have changed since you left."

"Well, I left right after the end of a war. I hardly expected things to be in the same state when I returned."

"That's not what I mean." Blaise ran a hand through his dark curls and glanced towards the marble stairs that led to the upper floors of the townhome. "I'm not talking about society in general, although of course the wizarding world has changed since the end of the war. What I meant is that _people_ have changed, things aren't the same as you might expect."

"Okay. . ." Draco furrowed his brow, not sure what his old friend was getting at. He was about to ask him to explain, when a sleepy feminine voice called down from the direction of the stairs.

"Blaise? Are you down here?"

Draco smirked as a slender woman made her way down the steps, apparently clad in only a men's oxford shirt that reached to mid thigh, her face obscured by her hand raking back her brunette curls. He turned briefly to waggle his eyebrows at Blaise, whose posture had tensed at the sound of the woman's voice. He turned back towards the woman, surprised when he heard her say his name, and nearly dropped his cup of coffee when he got a clear look at her.

"Malfoy?"

"_Granger?_" he choked out.

He stared at her in shock, absently wondering when the schoolgirl he remembered had transformed into the woman before him. It was only when Blaise stepped forward and snapped his fingers in front of his face that Draco managed to school his features into a neutral mask.

Blaise laughed as his friend pulled his gaze away from Hermione, who was currently fidgeting with the shirt she wore even though it covered more of her legs than some skirts would. "You still in there, Malfoy?"

"Of course," he snapped, his irritation at being caught off guard coming through in his next words. "So, Granger was your conquest? I didn't realize you had lowered your standards that much, Zabini."

If Draco had been paying closer attention, he would have noticed Hermione flinch at his comment. As it was he was only aware of Blaise narrowing his eyes, the smile dropping off his face as he moved to stand beside the former Head Girl to wrap an arm around her protectively. "You don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy. I advise you not to say anything else on the matter," he said, his voice dangerously calm.

"What is this?" Draco exclaimed. "I leave for a few years and you start consorting with mudbloods?"

Hermione glared at him. "Haven't you anything better to do than be offensive first thing in the morning?" She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, tugging at the bottom of the shirt again as Blaise drew her closer to her side.

"He doesn't mean it, _cara_," he assured her, looking at Draco pointedly. "Do you?"

Truthfully, he didn't mean it, using the term from careless force of habit rather than any actual intention to insult her. They had come to a truce of sorts during their seventh year at Hogwarts when she and Blaise had been co-Heads sharing a dorm. Draco had visited their common room frequently to hang out with Blaise, which by extension meant that he spent a lot of time around Hermione. After a month of putting up with their fighting, usually instigated by Draco, Blaise had grown exasperated and threatened to throw him out. The two enemies grudgingly agreed to be civil to each other, but they never truly became friends.

"No, I suppose I don't," he admitted reluctantly. "But I do confess I am astonished to find you here, Granger. Can't blame you for moving on from the Weasel, though I daresay Blaise here is as much out of your league as you were out of the Weasel's. Any Slytherin would be, really."

This time Draco did catch her sharp intake of breath at his words, her posture instantly stiffening, though she said nothing. This reaction puzzled him. He had come to expect a verbal rally whenever he made such barbed comments, and for some reason her quiet acceptance of his words did not sit well with him.

Blaise leveled a hard look at him before speaking to the witch at his side. "Mia," he said softly. "You know that's not true. We've talked about this. You shouldn't feel like this anymore."

Draco was flabbergasted when her brown eyes, always so expressive, slowly filled with tears. After years of tormenting her in school, calling her filthy names and taunting her friends, _this_ was what reduced her to crying?

Blaise sighed and gathered her into his embrace, allowing her to duck her head into his chest. Draco looked on in confusion as his friend soothed her, holding her gently and rubbing her back with one hand. After several minutes of quiet crying, Hermione's sobs subsided, and she pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes. "I'm going to go back upstairs," she murmured. Blaise nodded and kissed her forehead before letting her go, watching as she made her way to the curving staircase, never looking back at Draco.

Silence reigned for a few moments before Draco was no longer able to hold his tongue. "What on earth was that about?" he demanded. "I've never known Granger to be so weepy."

Blaise closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You never did know when to keep your mouth shut. I told you mate, things have changed." He held up a hand to forestall the question he knew was coming. "Not now. You can stay if you want, help yourself to food or more coffee, but right now I need to go make sure Mia is okay."

And with that, he too retreated up the stairs. A bewildered Draco was left gaping after him, wondering what exactly had just happened.


	2. Chapter 1: Broken

_**A/N:**__ Many thanks to everyone who added this to their alerts or favourites, and special thanks to __lollapalozzafanatic83__ for the first review of my first Harry Potter fanfic. I do hope you all continue to enjoy the story!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ Not mine._

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><p><em>The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight<br>Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time  
>I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts<br>I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out_

_I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing_  
><em>With a broken heart that's still beating<em>  
><em>In the pain, there is healing<em>  
><em>In your name I find meaning<em>  
><em>So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on<em>  
><em>I'm barely holdin' on to you<em>

_Lifehouse – Broken_

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><p>Draco shook his head and went to refill his coffee cup, questions flying through his mind. He simply could not comprehend what he had just witnessed.<p>

When had Blaise and Granger gotten so close? And just how close were they? Was she really one of his conquests? Why was she so upset about a few words that to his mind were far from the worst he had directed at her? What made Blaise so protective of her? Just what was going on upstairs?

He set his mug down on the kitchen table and wandered over to the pantry, where he grabbed a box of cereal at random. Glancing down, he noticed it was the cereal that Blaise had been fond of since Hermione introduced it to him in their final year at Hogwarts. Honey Nut Cheerios, apparently an American muggle brand. Shrugging, Draco went to grab a bowl from the cupboard, moving through the cupboard with ease born of familiarity. The two boys had known each other since infancy, and when they were growing up Draco would often spend time with Blaise and his mother in the London townhouse during the summer. Catherine Zabini had signed the home over to Zabini upon his graduation from Hogwarts, and Draco knew he loved living there.

He sat at the kitchen table eating cereal and drinking coffee for ten minutes before he thought, _fuck it_, and headed upstairs to satisfy his curiosity. Not sure where they would have headed, he decided to start at the top and work his way down, though he was almost certain they would not be on the very top floor because it consisted solely of the expansive master bedroom suite. He hesitated briefly in the small sitting room at the top of the stairs, then crossed to the door to the bedroom, where he stopped in his tracks.

He stood silently in the doorway, shocked at the sight before him. Blaise was sitting on the far edge of his king-sized bed, his back to the doorway. Hermione was stretched out on her side, her head laying on Blaise's lap, one of his hands resting comfortably on the dip of her waist while the other combed gently through her curls. Draco could hear the low pitch of Blaise's voice and her soft murmur in response although he was unable to make out the words they spoke, but the affection between the two was unmistakable when his friend lifted her hand to press a gentle kiss to its back.

It was a decidedly intimate moment, and Draco was suddenly seized with the uncomfortable feeling that he was intruding where he had no place. He backed away from the room in confusion. What had happened in the kitchen had given him an inkling of the closeness between Blaise and Hermione but he never would have imagined _this_ kind of easy familiarity for them. He made his way back to the kitchen, dazed and with no better understanding of the situation than when he went looking for them.

He was just pondering whether the two of them were actually in a relationship when a voice broke him out of his reverie. "Hello?"

"Pansy?" he muttered, going to the sitting room to answer the fire call.

"Draco!" she cried the moment he stood in front of the fireplace. "Is that really you?"

He nodded. "In the flesh."

"What are you doing in London? I _did_ call the right place, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. I'm coming back to England, Pans. I was going to let you all know today, Blaise was simply my first stop."

"Really?" she asked. "Hang on, I'm coming through."

He stepped to the side to make room, and the moment she was in the room she threw her arms around him. "It's so good to see you!" she smiled. Then her expression changed, and she stepped back to slap him hard across the face.

"Ow!" he yelped, glaring at her. "What the fuck?"

"That was for not keeping in touch with me, and for not coming to my wedding," she stated primly.

"You're such a bitch," he grumbled.

"Oh please, you deserved that," she said unremorsefully. She sank into the leather armchair to the right of the fireplace, looking up at him critically. "I _am_ glad you're coming back, though. I was beginning to think you hated us all. Or that you had eloped with some Beauxbatons trollop and were going to stay in France forever."

"Not bloody likely." He sat on the couch and shook his head, already moving on from the slap. "Mother will remain there, at least for now, but England is home for me. It was time."

"Good. And I'm glad you decided to let us know." She furrowed her brow then and looked around the room. "Speaking of which, where's Blaise? The whole reason I called was to let him know I would be able to come to brunch after all."

"He's, ah, upstairs." He hesitated, not sure how Pansy would react to the news that Hermione was here as well, then realized that she probably already knew about the relationship. "With Granger."

She snapped her head back from looking into the kitchen in search of Blaise. "Hermione is here?"

He noted with curiosity that her tone carried more of concern than disdain, a change from the way she always spoke of the Gryffindor when they were all at Hogwarts. "She was already here when I arrived, although she didn't stick around down here very long after I asked what Blaise was doing with a mudblood."

"You asked _what?_" Pansy nearly shouted, getting to her feet.

"What he was doing with a mudblood," he repeated. Her ire confused him to say the least. At school Pansy had always prided herself on being pureblooded, never hesitating to put down muggleborns for their heritage. "What of it? It's nothing she hasn't heard from me before."

"She doesn't deserve that, Draco," she snapped.

"Okay, what the bloody hell is going on?" he asked, impatience getting the better of him. "First Blaise jumps to her defense, which I suppose I can understand because they did become friends in school. But then she's crying on him? Since when does Granger cry? And when did you become her number one fan?"

"Merlin, Draco. Must you _always_ be such a git?" She glowered at him as she made her way over to the stairs.

"Wait! Seriously, Pansy, what is all this?"

She sighed and came to sit at the other end of the couch from him. "Things have changed since you left. A lot of what you want to know is really not my story to tell, but for now you should know that Hermione has become a very good friend, and I won't stand for you belittling her or calling her those horrid names. Neither will Blaise."

Blond eyebrows shot up to his hairline at this explanation. "Friends. You and Granger? Really? As I recall, you were even more cruel to her at school than I was, the only difference was that I did it to her face."

"Yes, friends!" she exclaimed angrily. "We aren't schoolchildren anymore. While you've been off doing Merlin knows what, some of us have grown up. Can you really look me in the eye and tell me that you think that one's parentage defines them?"

He looked away. It was a question he had asked himself countless times since the end of the war, and he still had no answer. "I don't know."

"Well, that's more than you would have admitted at Hogwarts, so I suppose that's better than nothing."

"You and Granger are really friends, then?"

"Yes, we are. She was even a bridesmaid at my wedding, which you would have known had you bothered to come."

He groaned, and was about to open his mouth to retort when they heard Blaise call down the stairs. "Malfoy, are you still here?"

"In the sitting room with Pans."

Pansy got up again to wait for Blaise at the foot of the staircase. As soon as he appeared in her line of sight, she asked, "Is she okay? Are we still having brunch?"

The Italian nodded. "She'll be fine. And I thought you couldn't make it to brunch?"

"Change of plans," she shrugged. "Really though, she's okay?"

"Yes, really, all things considered," he said, shooting Draco a heated look. "Go on up to see for yourself, though. I need to explain some things to Draco."

She gave him a hesitant look. "Blaise . . ."

"It's fine, she told me I could tell him some things."

She nodded, then smiled briefly at Draco. "I'll be back down in a little bit. It really is good to see you, Draco."

Blaise came over to take the seat Pansy had just vacated as soon as she had disappeared up the stairs. "Okay, mate, I imagine you have some questions. I can explain some things, but there are others you'll just need to hear from Hermione."

Draco nodded. Whatever had happened in his absence was enough to make two Slytherins fiercely protective of a girl who was the last person he would ever imagine needing protection, and he was naturally curious to know more. "So, what happened?"

"Let me start by asking you a question. What do you know of her life after the war?"

He furrowed his brow, thinking back to the time before he and his mother left for Bordeaux. "Well, obviously we all went back to Hogwarts after it reopened for our seventh year. She was Head Girl to your Head Boy, and earned a record number of Os on her NEWTs. After we graduated, she had plans to become a healer at St. Mungo's."

"Anything else?"

"Well, she and her male counterparts vacationed together for a month after we graduated, although I don't know where. She was dating the Weasel, and I think they were all sharing a flat once they came back from their holiday. That's all I know."

Blaise sighed. "So as far as you know, she's a healer, dating Ron Weasley, and living with him and Potter?"

"Right. Although, speaking of Scarhead and the Weasel, how do they feel about their princess being friends with Slytherins?"

"You're in for a bit of a shock. She hasn't spoken to the two of them in almost four years. Or, more accurately, they haven't spoken to her. And they certainly don't all live together."

Draco's jaw fell open as he stared at his old friend. "Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"What the bloody hell happened? The three of them were practically joined at the hip all through school! Everyone knew she was going to marry the Weasel! And Potter doesn't speak to her?"

"It's a bit of a long story, but it all started when she caught Weasley cheating on her. Needless to say, that didn't go over very well."

"He cheated. On Granger," he deadpanned.

"Yes."

"The man must have had a death wish. Or did he manage to forget the bit where she's the most brilliant, accomplished witch of the age?"

Blaise snorted. "Yes, well, if he did forget, she certainly reminded him. After she got over the shock, that is. I believe she actually created two of the hexes she used on him, specifically for that purpose."

"Good for her," he smirked. "So, he cheated on her. And now they don't speak? I would have thought she would forgive him eventually, they were all friends for so long."

"As I said, that was just the start. They were at least civil to each other after that, though Hermione did move out of the place the three of them were sharing."

"And Potter? How does he fit into all this?"

"He refused to take sides, said he didn't want to choose between his two best friends. He and Hermione remained close, but if you ask me things between the three of them were never quite the same. Still, it looked like they would have eventually gotten back to being the annoyingly close Golden Trio, until . . ." he paused, looking at something over Draco's shoulder.

"Until what?" the blond asked impatiently. "Well?" He turned in his seat to see what his friend was looking at, and was astonished to find that Hermione had managed to come downstairs without him noticing. She stood at the foot of the stairs, now sporting a pair of cropped black leggings under the men's shirt, her face inscrutable except for the sadness in her eyes. Pansy was behind her, gripping the wrought iron railing of the staircase with one hand while the other rested on Hermione's shoulder in a show of support.

"Mia?" Blaise queried softly.

"I'm _fine_," she reassured him with a small smile. She turned her gaze to Draco, her voice even. "I believe he was telling you that things were on their way back to normal between Harry, Ronald and I."

"Yes, and then something else happened?" he couldn't disguise his curiosity.

"Indeed. I spent six months in Australia with Adrian Pucey."


	3. Chapter 2: Keep Breathing

_**A/N: **__My apologies for the wait, but real life does get in the way sometimes. Thanks to everyone who read the last chapter, and special thanks to everyone who left me a review. It's always great to find those review notifications in my inbox. Now, on with the story._

_**Disclaimer: **__Sadly, the Harry Potter world is not mine, though I am having fun playing in it._

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><p><em>I want to change the world<br>Instead I sleep  
>I want to believe in more than you and me<em>

_But all that I know is I'm breathing_  
><em>All I can do is keep breathing<em>  
><em>All we can do is keep breathing now<em>

_All that I know is I'm breathing_  
><em>All I can do is keep breathing.<em>  
><em>All we can do is keep breathing<em>

_Ingrid Michaelson – Keep Breathing_

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><p>Draco was really not sure how to react to the words that Hermione had just spoken, so he settled for repeating them. "You spent six months in Australia with Adrian Pucey?"<p>

"Yes, I did."

"But . . . _why?_ You do know he was in Slytherin, don't you?"

Hermione looked at him in incredulity before she laughed suddenly and unexpectedly, lightening the atmosphere considerably. "Really? I had no idea! Ade was a Slytherin?" She shifted to face Blaise with a playful expression. "Blaise! Did you know he was in your house?"

Blaise snorted, and behind Hermione an unlikely smile turned up the corners of Pansy's mouth. "I might have had an inkling, _cara_."

"Are you quite done mocking me?" Draco said sulkily, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh, I don't know, I'm sure we could get some more mileage out of that one," grinned Blaise.

"Prat," Draco grumbled. He looked back to Hermione thoughtfully, wondering why she had spent so long in the company of the wizard who had been several years ahead of them at Hogwarts. He had never known Pucey well, having only associated with him through the Slytherin quidditch team.

"Let's all sit down, shall we?" Pansy motioned to the kitchen table and moved to take a seat, the others following after her.

Once they were all settled, Draco directed his attention back to Hermione. "So, Granger. Explain yourself."

She bristled slightly, all traces of humour wiping from her face as she straightened. "Let's get one thing straight here, Malfoy. I don't take orders from you. I never have, and I never will. Are we clear?"

He stared at her, holding back a flippant retort. "I suppose so."

"Good. Now then, about Australia. I had to deal with a personal matter after the war, and Ade was kind enough to offer to help me."

Draco quirked his head at her, both at the information that she offered, and her casual nicknaming of the older Slytherin. "He offered," he said dryly.

"To help me, yes."

"Just like that?" asked Draco skeptically.

"Yes. Just like that. I know it may be an unfamiliar concept to you, but it actually is possible for people to do things just to be nice."

"For some people, perhaps. But a Slytherin? Not likely," Draco scoffed.

Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Maybe that's how things work for _you_, Malfoy, and if that's the case then I feel sorry for you. But all of my best friends now are Slytherins, and I am quite confident in telling you that any one of them would help me if I needed it, no questions asked."

The blond raised an elegant eyebrow, genuinely surprised to find that both Pansy and Blaise were nodding in agreement with the war heroine. He was sure that when they were all in school together, none of his housemates would have acted purely out of altruism, much less openly acknowledged it. Seeing them do so now was quite a shock, and he was not at all certain how he felt about it.

"Fine, whatever you say. But moving on, Pucey volunteered to go halfway around the world with you, so . . . what? You just left? What about Scarhead and the Weasel?"

She sighed, but Draco noticed that she said nothing to correct his use of the derogatory nicknames. He also couldn't help but notice the comforting hand that Blaise, seated next to her, placed on the small of her back. "To answer your first question, yes. Ade offered to come along just a few days before I planned to leave; I had already arranged for an international portkey, so all he had to do was join me. As for Harry and Ron, well, they were unhappy."

"That's an understatement," Pansy mumbled. "By unhappy, she means that the three of them had a screaming match in the middle of the Ministry atrium on the morning that she left."

"I see," said Draco. He had been wondering why the male part of the Golden Trio had not accompanied her, and a fight of that magnitude would explain it. "Obviously, they didn't approve of Pucey going along with the three of you on your jaunt to Australia. You didn't warn them?"

"You misunderstand," Hermione said. "Ron and Harry were never going to come with me. They came to the Ministry that morning to see me off, and that's when they found out about Ade."

"Oh," Draco said, honestly startled. "I don't understand. This was obviously something important, if you were there for six months. And if Pucey found it in him to go with you, why weren't they planning to do the same?"

"Because they're selfish bastards who were too busy mucking about and doing absolutely nothing of importance to realize that their best friend needed them," Blaise muttered darkly.

"Blaise!" Hermione scolded him. "That's not true. Things after the war were difficult for everyone, you know that, and they were getting their lives in order. Harry was about to start auror training and Ron was preparing for quidditch tryouts."

"Hermione, don't even start," Pansy exclaimed. "You know as well as Blaise and I do that had they really wanted to help you, they could have postponed those plans easily. They _chose_ not to go along, because they _chose _to put other things before you."

Draco looked on as his oldest female friend made her point in what was clearly an old argument. Hermione sighed, leaning into Blaise as she turned her attention back to the blond. "Never mind all that. The point is, even though they never planned to go with me, they were rather vocal in their disapproval of Adrian making the trip as well. I wasn't about to miss my portkey, so in the end I left with them still angry at me."

"And Pucey?"

"He came with me," she said simply. "Initially we both thought that I would only need his help for a few weeks at most, but things changed. I stayed in Australia for half a year, and Ade stayed the whole time." She sighed then, a melancholy look crossing her features. "We didn't speak until again until after I'd been there for a month. We had another falling out, and, well, I haven't spoken to either Harry or Ron since."

Draco took a moment to absorb this information, then quirked his brow at her. "So the Golden Trio is no more?"

"Ugh, I always hated that nickname," complained Hermione, shaking her head ruefully. "But, yes, if you want to put it that way, you are correct."

"Hmm," the blond hummed, well aware that he was still missing key pieces of information. "I suppose that _helps_ explain why the three of you are no longer joined at the hip, but you never really told me why Pucey went with you. Or what you were doing in Australia, for that matter, not to mention how you ended up with Zabini here," he gestured at his old friend.

"No, I didn't. I may let you know more in time, but that is really all I am comfortable telling you right now. It's not as though you're one of my friends, you must admit."

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. Her blunt statement stung more than he cared to admit, but he could not deny its truth. No one could say that he and Granger were friends, and were he in her place, he would have revealed even less than she had. "I suppose I can accept that," he nodded. "But what happened after the three of you fought?"

"Well, I was terribly upset for a long time afterwards, and it sort of put my plans – what I wanted to accomplish while in Australia – on hold for a while. Eventually, I was able to do what I went there for, though the end result was very different from what I anticipated."

"Thank goodness for Adrian," said Pansy under her breath. Draco turned to look at her sharply, wondering what she meant by that.

For her part, Hermione only shook her head. "Yes, thank goodness Ade was there with me. He really helped me through a very trying period in my life."

"I see," Draco said, still not entirely sure what to make of the story. "And then? You came back?"

"Yes. I came back to England, got my own flat, and began work as a healer trainee. I got reacquainted with these two," she indicated Blaise and Pansy with a tilt of her head, "through Adrian, and eventually we all became close friends."

"Wait, so when you said that you haven't spoken to Potter and the Weasel since that falling out. . . "

"I meant it quite literally."

"Merlin, Granger, are you serious? I thought the three of you were inseparable! Best friends forever, and all that rot." The shock was clear on his face.

"Yes, well, apparently not," she said dryly. "Befriending even one Slytherin, never mind four or five of you, appears to be an unforgivable offense."

"Psh, you're better off without them, _cara_," Blaise assured her.

"Well, that is certainly true, much as I hate to admit it," agreed Draco. "It's their loss."

"I'm sorry?" questioned Hermione, astonished.

"Oh please, not that you're my favourite person or anything, but it's not as though it's some secret that you're the only reason those two are still alive," he said grudgingly. "Everyone knows that. I'm surprised those two can tie their own shoes without you there to supervise them."

Hermione flushed. "Oh. Thank you, I think."

He nodded curtly. "Don't think this means I like you or anything. But really, you were their best friend for how long, and they stopped talking to you because you made friends with someone from another house? Ridiculous."

"There, see?" Pansy looked at Hermione pointedly before turning to Draco. "We've been telling her the same thing forever, but it was ages before she listened. You're just confirming what we've been saying, and she can hardly say that _you're_ biased because you're her friend."

Draco was confused. "What is she talking about?"

Hermione remained silent, casting her eyes downward. It was Blaise who spoke up to answer the question. "For a long time, Hermione was under the impression that she was to blame for the breakup of the friendship, at least in part. That she had done something wrong, somehow."

"Bollocks," said Draco bluntly. More than anything, he was _annoyed_. The idea that the witch in front of him, the witch who was nothing if not a _survivor_, had thought herself responsible for her friends' behviour – well, it rankled. "I don't like you, Granger, but it's hardly your fault that those two are gormless prats."

"Yes, well, I realize that now, and I suppose I knew it back then, too. It's just, at the time, the whole thing was so hurtful. It was all I could do to keep from falling apart completely. They had been such a big part of my life – my whole world, really – for so long. It was like. . ." she faltered, trying to think of the right words, "Like I had to remind myself how to breathe again, without them."

Draco grunted in disbelief. "Ridiculous. What was that last argument about anyway?"

"That doesn't matter right now. All you need to know is that we fought, and as a result we no longer speak."

He glanced at Blaise, who had started rubbing her back in soothing circles. "I see. And where do you come in, Zabini?"

The Italian gave Draco an odd look. "What do you mean, where do I come in? You know that Hermione and I got to be friends that last year at Hogwarts. We sort of lost touch after that, but then after she and Ade came back we all started spending time together."

"She and Blaise more or less picked up where they left off," Pansy added. "It was a little different for me; we never really spoke much during school, so it took me some time to get used to having her around."

"Understatement of the year," grinned Hermione. "If I recall correctly, the first time Ade brought me along to dinner and you were there, you asked what the bloody hell he was doing with _that_, as if I were a thing and not a person, then proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the evening. It took several outings before you would deign to acknowledge me."

"Yes, well, I never expected to be having dinner with a lowly Gryffindor, much less the muggleborn third of the Golden Trio. Status, you know."

"You're such a bitch," said Hermione with a straight face.

"Why thank you. And you are a complete shrew."

"Snake."

"Wench."

Draco's mouth fell open as he watched the two women exchange barbs, the growing smiles on their faces belying the words they spoke. When they noticed the usually taciturn blond gawking at them, they promptly dissolved into giggles, Blaise joining them in their laughter. Draco was even more dumbfounded. Since when did _Hermione Granger_ do anything so girly as _giggling? _With _Pansy Parkinson_, no less?

"Oh, close your mouth, Draco," said Pansy as their laughter subsided. "What happened to your sense of humour?"

"He has one?" Hermione questioned dryly. "Don't look so shocked, Malfoy. Pansy is my best friend in the world, other than Blaise here. We're allowed to tease each other."

He frowned, still unsure of how to deal with a world in which Hermione Granger was good friends with his former housemates. "I see. So you came back from your Australian excursion, and decided snakes were better than lions. And you and Blaise?"

"What about us?" Confusion was clear on her face.

"Aren't you sleeping together?" he asked brusquely.

"What!" she exclaimed, quickly turning bright red. "No! Blaise and I are friends. Very close friends, but just friends."

"Mia is my best friend," Blaise shrugged, but did not offer any more information.

"So you just happened to spend the night here last night?" Draco asked skeptically.

"Well, no," she hedged. "I do have my own place, but I end up staying here more often than not, for various reasons."

"I see."

"No, I don't suppose you do, but that's all you need to know. Actually, you didn't _need_ to know any of that, so what I should really say is that's all I'm willing to tell you. For the moment, at least."

Draco nodded shortly, not liking being deprived of the full story, but hoping that he would get all the details later on. "Fine."

"Good. Now, are you joining us for brunch?" She sighed when Pansy gaped at her, clearly surprised at the abrupt change of subject as well as the unexpected invitation to the bane of her school years. "What? Clearly he knows we are all going to brunch, and he may not be my favourite person but I have better manners than to purposely exclude him from a gathering of his friends. Myself excepted, of course."

Draco shrugged when they all looked at him. "Why not, I've no other plans at the moment. You're going out, I presume?"

Blaise nodded. "There's a new place in Diagon Alley that we haven't tried yet, we were planning to go there. Firesong, it's called."

"Okay. What time? And who is going, exactly?"

"We were planning to eat at 10:00. Mia, Pans and I will be there, of course, but Theo will be there as well."

"Nott?"

"Do you know any other Theos?" Hermione questioned.

"Well, no. I suppose I was half expecting that we would be meeting Gryffindors, but it seems you really weren't kidding when you said all your close friends are Slytherins. I am curious about why Pucey won't be there, though. After spending six months in a foreign country with him, I would expect a friendship to have developed."

Blaise winced, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close as she closed her eyes briefly, sighing. "No, he won't be joining us. Ade and I… it's complicated."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Complicated?"

"Yes, complicated. Complex. Difficult."

"Yes, thank you for the vocabulary lesson," he rolled his eyes. "But how exactly are things complicated?"

"Again, not something I am going to discuss with you."

"Oh, come on, Granger. What, did you have a horrible break up or something?" he mocked.

"Mind your own business, Malfoy," she glowered. "I am not going to answer just to indulge your curiosity or need to ridicule me."

"Who said I was going to ridicule you?"

"Prior experience. No one had to tell me."

He opened his mouth to retort, but quickly shut it again upon noticing Pansy's glare. "Fine. Brunch, then. Shall I meet you there?"

"We were all going to meet here and go over together, actually," said Blaise. "You can either hang around here with us, or you can go home and come back in a bit. We were going to gather here at quarter of."

"Fine. I'll head back to the manor for now, but I'll be back at quarter of ten."

"Great, we'll see you then. I'm going to go finish getting ready for the day," said Hermione, getting to her feet. Pansy quickly followed suit, trailing after her into the sitting room.

Draco turned to Blaise once the women were gone, assessing his friend coolly. The Italian returned his gaze, waiting for him to speak. The blond contemplated everything that had just been said before settling on, "I never thought I would see that day that Granger would choose Slytherins over her old mates."

"Well, to be fair, they were the ones to turn their backs on her first. They discarded her like so much rubbish, for nothing more than being willing to stand up for someone who was helping her. Also, that fight in the Ministry that she mentioned? Weasley lost that famous temper of his and called her a whore."

"You're joking."

"I wish I were. You can see why she was upset. Then when they finally contacted her again, it was only to demand that she come back to England and stop hanging around with Pucey. Well, you know how she feels about being told what to do."

"Ah."

"Indeed. On top of that, they never apologized for the fight in the atrium. That was the last straw for her."

"What about the rest? Weaslette and the other Gryffindors?"

"Let me ask you this. Did you ever see her spending time with housemates other than Potter and Weasley when we were in school?"

Draco started. "Huh. No, I suppose not. At least, not very often."

"Exactly," nodded Blaise. He glanced over at the grandfather clock in the other room, then stood. "Anyway. If you want to know more, you'll have to convince her to tell you. You really only got the bare bones, but it's not my story to tell."

Draco got to his feet, making his way to the floo and grabbing a handful of powder from the cloisonné container on the mantel. "Fine. Make no mistake, I _will_ find out what happened, but I'll leave it be for now."

Blaise shot him a pensive look as the blond stepped into the fireplace and called out _Malfoy Manor_. "Any why is it so important that you know so much about Granger?"

Draco was taken aback by the question, and flabbergasted at what his friend might be implying.

When he landed at his childhood home, though, he was even more appalled at the realization that _he had no answer_.


	4. Chapter 3: Pitter Pat

_**A/N:**__ Ack, many apologies for the long delay between chapters. I had this chapter just about done ages ago, but a lot of family and personal issues came up, and the story fell by the wayside. Now I'm back though, and I hope you enjoy! As always, thanks to all my lovely reviewers; I truly appreciate you taking the extra minute or two to leave me some feedback._

_**Disclaimer:**__ All I own is the plot._

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><p><em>Pitter pat, the angel on my shoulder<br>Is haunting me tonight  
>Tick tock, the clock is getting louder<br>Ready for me to decide_

_I've lost my sense of right and wrong_  
><em>Well-justified my soul to carry on<em>  
><em>It feels so damn good to write off the rules<em>  
><em>But when a new day breaks<em>  
><em>I'm left a fool<em>  
><em>I'm such a fool<em>

_Pain takes my heart's place_  
><em>But your sweet sweet love,<em>  
><em>Oh, I can taste it<em>  
><em>But still can't face it<em>

_Erin McCarley – Pitter Pat_

* * *

><p>Draco was quiet for much of the morning at the restaurant, silently observing the interaction between Hermione and his old friends.<p>

He had returned to Blaise's townhome precisely at quarter to 10, several minutes before either Pansy or Theo. When he arrived, he went into the kitchen to find Hermione and Blaise engaged in a quiet conversation. He overheard the tail end, but they had fallen silent as soon as they caught sight of him walking into the room.

"_You know there's a very good chance that he'll be there. They're back in town, and you know that Isabelle will want to try the new restaurant," came Blaise's murmur._

"_I know," replied Hermione. "But I can't avoid them forever, and I refuse to change my plans on the off chance that I _might_ see them."_

"_True. But, Mia, if you aren't ready, we can stay home. No one would blame you."_

He had entered at that point to see a wistful expression cross Hermione's face as she shook her head, moving not quite fast enough to withdraw her hand from Blaise's grasp before Draco could notice. The pair had greeted him, though without any particular warmth on Hermione's part, and shifted the conversation to talk about the restaurant where they would be dining. Draco went along with the change of subject, and they were quickly joined by Pansy and Theo.

He had been curious as to how well Theo and Hermione would get on. Nott's father had been a Death Eater, not as high up in the ranks as Draco's father, but still firmly ensconced on Voldemort's side of the war. Theo himself never took the mark, but he was known to look down on muggleborns and had only associated with purebloods while at Hogwarts. Much to Draco's surprise, Theo had drawn the petite witch into a friendly embrace after kissing her on the cheek. Draco had watched in shock as yet another of his friends greeted Hermione with affection, tilting his world even further off its axis.

Now they were all seated at a booth in the corner of the restaurant, chatting about their lives and exchanging stories as they waited for their food to arrive. Draco was deep in thought, still processing everything that had happened since he arrived at Blaise's home, when he heard his name.

"Draco?" asked Theo.

"Hm? Sorry, what did you say?"

"I was just asking whether your mother was going to come back as well."

"No. She plans to stay in France for the time being. She's well settled there, and I'm not sure she's prepared to return to the manor without father there." He glanced at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, suddenly recalling the torture she had endured in his family home, only to find that she was eyeing him with a strange look on her face. "What, Granger?"

She started, before her expression softened and she spoke quietly. "Nothing, it's nothing. It's just. . . I can understand not wanting to return to a place that has too many memories. It must be difficult for her."

Draco nodded in astonished acknowledgement. After everything she had experienced at the hands of his family, the last thing he expected was for Hermione to sympathize with his mother.

"Well, in any case, I hope she's well."

"Yes, how is your mum?" asked Pansy.

"She's fine. She has always loved the property in Bordeaux, and we have relatives nearby that she enjoys visiting from time to time. She is doing much better than she was when we left."

Pansy smiled, glad to hear that the woman who had always treated her as a daughter was content. "Good. Send her my love, won't you?"

"I will, but feel free to contact her yourself. She would be happy to hear from you."

"Perhaps I will, then."

"So Draco, what are your plans now that you're back home?" Blaise spoke up from his seat next to Hermione.

"No concrete plans as of yet. I will be working at Malfoy Holdings, of course, but we don't have a board meeting scheduled for another two weeks. In the meantime, I'll probably get started on plans to redo the Manor."

"You're going to renovate Malfoy Manor?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Nothing too drastic, but there are a lot of areas that will need to be completely changed before I'm ready to live there again long term." He fought back his shudders at remembering his family living under Voldemort's thumb in their own home.

"That's right, you mentioned something about staying at the manor _for now_," said Blaise. "Are you not planning to live there for long?"

The blond shook his head. "I'm only staying there as long as it takes to find a flat to stay in for the duration of the remodel. I'll move back to the manor after the work is done, though."

"Oh! Well, no need to find a realtor or anything. You can stay with me if you'd like."

"I hadn't considered that possibility." Draco paused, glancing at the brunette at his friend's side. "Are you sure?"

"Of course! You know there's plenty of space, it's not like you'll be underfoot." Blaise waved his hand expansively.

"Perhaps I'll take you up on that then, at least in the short term. I've been thinking about expanding our property holdings anyway, but it would be convenient to stay with you while I look."

"No worries. Bring your things over when you're ready, you know where everything is."

"So why are you finally back in England?" asked Hermione, unable to restrain her natural curiosity any longer.

"As I told Blaise earlier, I decided I had been away for long enough. My ancestors may be from France, but it will never be home for me. I was ready to come back."

"That's all?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's certainly all I'm going to tell you right now."

She started at hearing her own words thrown back at her, but nodded her understanding. "I suppose that's fair."

"Look at the two of you, being all civil!" Pansy exclaimed, smirking. "It's like we're all adults or something."

"Shut it, you," said Hermione, the smile on her face giving away that she was far from truly upset. "Oh, our food is here!"

The group looked up as their waitress appeared with a heavily laden tray, carefully placing each dish on the table. "Can I get anything else for you?"

They all shook their heads politely, then picked up their silverware as the server left. "This looks really good," pronounced Blaise. "May I propose a toast?"

"What are we toasting to?" asked Theo as they all put their silverware down and raised their mimosa glasses.

"To good friends, new and old." They all clinked their glasses together gently, echoing his words. Just as they set their drinks back down, a loud feminine voice floated over to their table.

"Oh, what a surprise! Adrian, look who's here!"

Draco watched as Hermione started in apparent shock, the blood draining from her face, while Blaise stiffened beside her. He looked up in confusion to see a willowy blonde woman he had never seen, pulling Adrian Pucey along towards them.

"Pansy, Theo, Blaise, wonderful to see you!" she smiled brightly. Her eyes narrowed a fraction but her smile stayed in place as she spotted the second woman at the table. "And Hermione, lovely to see you as well."

"Hello everyone," greeted Adrian. Draco observed in silence as his former housemate looked over the group, his gaze lingering on Hermione.

"Good morning you two," said Pansy. Blaise and Theo simply nodded at the newcomers, while Hermione smiled weakly.

"Oh, how rude of me," Adrian murmured when his companion pointedly looked between him and Draco. "Isabelle, this is Draco Malfoy. We both went to Hogwarts. Malfoy, Isabelle."

"Oh, introduce me properly darling!" she said, pouting prettily. "Adrian is my husband." In his peripheral vision, Draco caught Hermione closing her eyes briefly at her words.

Although he was burning to know why there was so much tension between the group at the table and the couple standing before them, there was no way he was going to ignore the social niceties. _Mother would have my head,_ he thought wryly as he rose smoothly from his seat at the edge of the booth to kiss the back of her hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Well aren't you charming," chirped Isabelle as he returned to his seat. She turned to survey the group. "Adrian and I got back to England a few days ago."

"Oh, you've been away?" asked Draco politely.

"Yes, we've been on an extended holiday. We portkeyed in from Australia on Wednesday."

"Australia?" Hermione's voice was whisper soft, but Draco heard the sadness in her tone.

"Yes, we spent nearly a month there. It's a lovely country," replied Isabelle, eyes glinting as she looked at the brunette. "Now, I was saying to Adrian just last night that we should have a get-together soon, now that we're back. Dinner perhaps? We have news to share."

The movement was quick, but Draco noticed her hand graze her stomach as she reached for Pucey's hand. Apparently, so did everyone else, because Pansy hissed quietly while Blaise and Theo frowned. The smile on Isabelle's face was triumphant as Hermione prodded Pansy and Theo to get out of the booth, jolting to her feet.

"Excuse me—I have to—excuse me," mumbled the Gryffindor, heading in the direction of the restrooms.

The atmosphere at the table was strained at best, and Draco was once again at a loss. "Oh, is she not well?" said Isabelle innocently.

"You know very well why she's upset," seethed Pansy.

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. She cannot possibly still be upset over that, it was ages ago. And all I did was tell her the truth."

"In the most hurtful way possible!" growled Blaise.

"She was going to find out eventually, you know."

"That is not the point!" cried Pansy, shaking Theo's hand off her shoulder, where he had placed it in an attempt to calm her.

For his part, Draco remained silent, leaning back in the booth and observing everything, letting nothing escape him. He was fascinated by the dynamic before him, even without knowing exactly why his friends were so upset. As they continued their back and forth, he noted

that Pucey kept quiet, a pained expression on his face, until he finally withdrew his hand from his wife's and retreated, unnoticed, in the direction Hermione had fled.

Without stopping to wonder why, Draco stood and followed his former housemate, leaving his friends to their argument. He stopped in the corridor at the back of the restaurant, watching as Pucey approached an obviously distraught Hermione in the alcove outside the restrooms.

"Hermione. . ." Adrian spoke hesitantly.

"Don't, Ade, just. . . don't."

"But I'm _sorry!_ I didn't know you would be here."

"What does it matter? What were you going to do, warn me?"

"I don't know, maybe?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Look, we can't avoid each other forever, so can we just agree to be civil to each other?"

"I don't want to be _civil_ you daft witch! Why can't we be friends?"

"Friends? Friends!" she scoffed, wiping furiously at the tears building in her eyes. "I can't do that right now, and I don't think your _wife_ would like that, _ever_."

"But I _do_, and that has to count for something! I never wanted to lose you."

"Well, it's a bit late for that." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before gathering herself to her full height. "I need to get back to my friends."

"Wait—" Adrian grabbed her upper arm as she tried to move past him. "We have to be able to work this out."

She shook her head, refusing to look him in the eye. "Please let me go."

"No, let's talk about this."

"I _can't_."

"Hermione," he pleaded, tightening his hold on her.

"Adrian, you're hurting me!"

It was at this point that Draco stepped forward from his vantage point, although he saw the older man release her immediately, stuttering an apology. Draco's sins were many, but he never had and never would abide a man physically harming a woman, no matter who she was. "Pucey," he drawled coolly.

"Malfoy." Adrian exhaled loudly as he raked a hand back through his hair. "Hermione, I am so sorry. You know I would never. . ."

"I know," she said tearfully. "But please, Ade, just go."

He furrowed his brow in frustration, but then nodded his acceptance. "Fine. But we do need to talk at some point, even if it's not now." With that, he turned, walking back toward the main room of the restaurant. As soon as he was out of sight, Hermione wilted visibly, moving to lean against the wall as the tears she had fought so hard to hold back began to fall.

"Uh. . . Alright there Granger?" asked Draco uncomfortably. He stepped forward hesitantly when she said nothing, crying silently. He raised his hand towards her, pausing for only a split second before placing it on her shoulder. "Granger?"

She sobbed at his touch, instinctively raising her head to look at him. "Sorry," she managed. "You don't need to stay, I'll be fine in a moment."

He sighed, going against instinct and suppressing his urge to demand she tell him what the _hell_ was happening. "We may not be the best of friends, but I'm not completely heartless. We get along well enough, sort of. I won't leave you here in this state."

"Right," she hiccupped, offering a weak smile. "Well, thank you Malfoy."

Much to his own surprise, he moved to stand at her side in a show of support as she began taking deep breaths. True to her word, Hermione calmed herself quickly, and he nudged her with his shoulder when she had settled. "Okay?"

"I think so." She wiped the last of the tears from her face and pushed away from the wall to stand straight. "Let's go."

"Alright. After you, Granger." He followed her down the hall, only to nearly walk into her when she stopped dead in her tracks once they reached the dining room. "What the hell?"

He peered into the room. The group they had left behind was still on the other side of the restaurant, arguing. Pansy was giving Isabelle a withering glare, Blaise and Theo sitting silently on either side of her. Adrian had returned to the table and was standing behind his wife, one hand resting on the small of her back as she spoke.

"Malfoy, I—I _can't—_" Hermione's breath was coming in short bursts, panic rising up in her chest.

One look at her face told him she was on the edge of falling apart again. "Okay, okay, calm down."

"I need to get _out_ of here!" she gasped, voice and body shaking.

His lips flattened to a thin line as he acted on impulse, reaching to grasp her hand firmly in his own. She turned to him in surprise, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, he apparated them away. A moment later, they were standing in Blaise's townhouse. Releasing her hand, Draco turned to look her in the eye, but Hermione only collapsed onto the couch in relief, panting for air.

She rested her head in her hands as she made a concerted effort to steady her breathing. Draco perched on the other side of the couch, angling his body towards her as he waited patiently for her to regain her composure. When she finally looked back up at him it felt like years later and her eyes were red but her voice was steady. "Thank you," she muttered.

After a few moments of silence, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind since he went after Pucey at the restaurant. "What the hell was that all about?" Sensing she was about to put him off again, he frowned and shook his head. "Oh no, Granger, I saw the whole conversation between you and Pucey in the hall, and I'm the one who brought you here when you were about to have a panic attack. The least you can do is tell me why."

"Can't you just accept my thanks and leave it at that?" she glared.

"No, that really doesn't sound like something I would do," he smirked, inexplicably pleased to see the fire return to her eyes.

"Fine," she huffed. "I suppose there's really no help for it, after everything you saw this morning."

He nodded. "I know you said that you and Pucey used to be close, but what I saw? That looked like more than an argument between friends."

"That's because it was," she whispered. "Ade and I—we used to be together. Almost a year."

"So—what? He ended things with you, dated her instead, got married?"

"Not quite. I was the woman he was seeing while they were already engaged."


	5. Chapter 4: A Little Too Much

_**A/N:**__ Wow, I posted the last chapter, and the next morning I woke up to an inbox full of notices of favourites and follows! You guys rock. Seriously. Hopefully that means you are all enjoying the story, but I'd __love__ more reviews; they're great motivation to write faster. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ It's JKR's sandbox, I just like to play in it._

* * *

><p><em>Sometimes it hits like a car crash<br>And it's too late to reverse  
>Sometimes you make me a better person<br>Sometimes you bring out the worst  
>Sometimes we get on like fire<br>Sometimes we're stubborn like rain  
>Just when I think it's over, over<br>You wave a white flag again  
><em>

_Ah, ah  
>We fall out then we fall back in<br>Ah, ah  
>We're always back where we begin<em>

_Natasha Bedingfield – A Little Too Much_

* * *

><p>"Excuse me?" he sputtered.<p>

"I said, I was the woman he was dating while he was already engaged." A ghost of a smile appeared as she saw the shock on his face. "Go ahead, say it. It won't be anything I haven't heard before."

"You dated him while he was engaged? Are you serious?" He was utterly gobsmacked. To say that the woman before him had been surprising him all morning would be an understatement, but the biggest shock of all was finding out that she had been the other woman, for any man. He simply could not reconcile that image with the one he had of her as an idealistic little swot from Hogwarts.

"Quite serious. And I know how it sounds, but it's not what you think."

"You know how it _sounds?_ You just told me you were dating him while he was engaged. He was cheating on his fiancée, with you. What else could it possibly be?"

"Technically, yes, all of that is true."

"Technically? _Technically_. Alright then, what am I missing?"

She took a deep breath. "What you're missing, Malfoy, is the fact that I never knew he was engaged. Not until Isabelle showed up instead of him on a date. You can imagine how that went."

"You were seeing him for a year and had no idea he was engaged?" he asked incredulously.

"Not a year. It was ten months." She smiled bitterly. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but I really didn't know."

"How is that possible?"

"Well, we started our relationship in Australia so it was just the two of us for the first, oh, five months we were together. Then when we came back, well, nothing really changed. Not until that night when Isabelle and I met for the first time."

He stared at her, still not understanding how she could have missed the fact that her boyfriend was engaged to someone else. As he mentally sorted through this new information the floo blazed to life behind them and Pansy, Blaise and Theo stepped out in quick succession.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Pansy. "Merlin, next time warn us that you're going home instead of just disappearing."

Draco narrowed his eyes when she referred to this as Hermione's home, then watched as Blaise exhaled in relief before striding over and gathering her up into his arms. She relaxed into his hold. "I'm fine, Blaise. Really. I just couldn't be there anymore. It was too much."

The dark skinned Italian closed his eyes as he gave her a quick squeeze then released her. "Okay." He quirked an eyebrow at her teasingly. "I guess we should have stayed in for brunch after all, hm?"

"Perhaps. Sorry for leaving like that. You didn't have to follow me."

"Of course we did," dismissed Pansy. "We were worried about you, especially once we realized Draco was gone too."

"Hey!" objected the blond.

"Not to worry Pans, Malfoy actually took rather good care of me," she said, sparing him a glance from the corner of her eye.

"Really now?" said Blaise, eyeing his old friend speculatively.

"Let's not make a big deal out of this," Draco grumbled.

"Are you sure you're okay, Hermione?" asked Theo.

"I'm fine," she assured them. "I am sorry I pulled you all away before we had a chance to eat, though."

"Oh, nothing to worry about on that score. Mipsy!" called Blaise.

A house elf blinked into the room at his summons, and Draco's eyes widened when he saw that she was wearing a crisp dress bearing the Zabini crest. "Master Blaise asks for Mipsy?"

"Yes. Could you go to Firesong, the new restaurant in Diagon Alley, and tell the maitre d' that you are there to collect the food they packed for the Zabini table? They should give you a bag to bring back here."

"Of course, Mipsy is happy to go!"

"Thank you Mipsy," spoke up Hermione just before the elf disappeared.

Draco turned a bewildered gaze on his childhood best friend, temporarily distracted from his curiosity about Hermione's history with Pucey. "You _freed_ Mipsy? She's been bonded to your family since before you were born!"

"What? No, what would give you that idea?"

"The clothes, Blaise," said Hermione with a gentle smile.

"Oh, that. No, she's not a free elf. Mia tried when she first started spending more time here, but Mipsy was having none of it."

Hermione flushed as she remembered the lengthy scolding she received from the diminutive elf. "Yes, yes, I learned my lesson. The elves don't want to be freed when they are treated well and are properly bonded with their families."

"Will wonders never cease. You actually gave up on your ridiculous crusade."

"Not given up, exactly. More like my priorities for them have shifted. I still campaign for their rights, but the focus now is on fair treatment and a decent wage."

"You mean you finally listened to what people have been telling you all along. The elves, for the most part, don't _want_ to be freed."

"For the most part, yes. But in some cases elves are still horribly mistreated by their families. _Those_ elves should be freed!"

He noticed the heat rising in her tone and couldn't resist provoking her. "Elves do not need to be freed Granger. They need to be bonded to a family or individual for their magic to function properly."

"Not in all cases. You do remember Dobby, don't you? You know, the house elf your horrid Death Eater of a father abused?" she said snidely.

"Shut up, Granger," he snapped, dropping all traces of levity. "You shouldn't speak of things you don't understand."

She stilled at once. She was taken aback by the harshness in his voice, especially after they had been almost pleasant to each other for most of the morning and she had confided part of her past. She never meant to bring up his father. It was only that she was genuinely passionate about elfish welfare, and she sometimes spoke without thinking when riled. "I—I'm sorry, Malfoy. Truly."

"You should be," he sneered. "You know nothing of my family, mudblood."

She paled at his use of the slur, the fight draining from her completely, and he instantly regretted it. "Oh. I am sorry, Malfoy."

Blaise moved to her side, lifting one hand to her shoulder. "Mia. . ."

"No, no," she murmured. "It's fine. Would you excuse me, though?"

"What about brunch?" frowned Pansy.

"Go ahead and eat without me. I'll be fine, really," she added when she saw Blaise's look of concern. With that she turned and went upstairs, leaving Draco to shift uncomfortably under the weight of his friends' glares.

"What?"

"What do you mean, _what?_" Pansy hissed. "Why were you so hateful to her? You were getting on so well earlier!"

"Wait just a moment! She's the one who insulted my family, why aren't you jumping down _her_ throat?" he exclaimed indignantly.

"She loses her head sometimes when it comes to her causes, that's all. I know you were never friends in school, but surely you remember that," said Blaise.

"And she should know that I do not react well to people saying anything about my family!" Draco retaliated, tiring of his friends' unrelenting defense of the Gryffindor. "Why is she the only one who gets a free pass?"

"She would never bring up something she knew would hurt someone under normal circumstances. Can you say the same thing?" Theo asked.

Pansy spoke up before Draco had a chance to respond. "I think we all know he has no such qualms."

"Which is why I want to make this clear from the outset." Blaise looked at Draco pointedly. "I know I said that you could stay here, and of course the offer remains open, but if you're going to live with me I will not tolerate you calling Hermione that disgusting word."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean it mate. You absolutely cannot throw around that kind of insult. I won't have it."

Draco fell silent as he looked around the room. He knew that he crossed a line with the mudblood remark, but he couldn't help feeling betrayed by his friends. Weren't they supposed to be on _his_ side? Finally, he managed, "And her?"

"What about her?"

"Are you placing restrictions on her language as well, or am I just special because I'm your oldest friend?" he asked acidly.

Pansy winced. "Draco. . ."

"No, I want to know." He gazed steadily at Blaise. "If I have to refrain from calling her a mudblood, are you going to prevent her from making malicious comments about my family?"

"It's hardly the same thing."

"Why not?" he demanded. "I can't help the choices that my parents made any more than she can help that her parents are non-magical!" Later, he would recognize this as the point that he first acknowledged that he and Hermione were something resembling equal. In the heat of the moment, however, all he knew was that he was tired of being reprimanded by his friends.

Theo stared at him, brows furrowed. "Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing," said Theo thoughtfully. "I just never thought of things in that light."

"Of course not," muttered Draco derisively. "Why worry about the troubles of the big, bad, evil Slytherin prince, even when he was forced to that lifestyle, when there's a Gryffindor damsel in distress to coddle needlessly?"

Pansy choked, biting back her obvious amusement despite his anger. "I'm sorry, did you just refer to yourself as the _Slytherin prince?_"

"Oh, shut it Pansy. I know you're the one who coined that nickname, you know." He glowered at them defiantly before looking back at Blaise. "Well? Do you have an answer for me?"

"I suppose it's fair that if you're not allowed to bring up her blood status, she shouldn't be allowed to bring up your family background," mused the Italian. "I am quite serious though, Draco. No calling Hermione a mudblood under my roof."

"Fine," he conceded reluctantly. "As long as it goes both ways, I can live with that."

"Good." As Blaise nodded, his house elf popped back into the room bearing the promised food from the restaurant. "Oh, thank you Mipsy. Would you take this to the sunroom and set the table for four with everything we'll need?"

"Of course!" she said cheerily.

Draco watched the elf retreat to the bright room just off the other side of the kitchen. "So I can stay here, yes?"

"As long as you can stick to those guidelines."

"How often is she here, anyway?"

"Mia? I don't know, three or four nights a week usually. Sometimes more, sometimes less."

"Three or four nights a week but she doesn't live here? Why doesn't she stay at her own place?"

Blaise sighed, glancing at Pansy and Theo briefly before speaking. "It's really not my place to say. How much did she tell you before we tracked you down? It looked like you were in the middle of a conversation."

"She said that she and Pucey were dating for about ten months while he was engaged to Isabelle, but she never knew about the engagement. She mentioned something about Isabelle showing up to a date in Pucey's place, but didn't really elaborate."

"Really?" Pansy stared in surprise. "She told you that much?"

"Well, yes. It's not like she went into detail or anything. I barely know any more than I did before we left for brunch this morning."

"No, you don't understand," Theo shook his head. "She hates to talk about what happened. It took her months before she would really open up about it to us, and we were there when it was happening. The fact that she told you so much already. . ."

Draco frowned. "What?"

"It's unexpected, that's all."

The blond took a moment to digest this, not comfortable with the idea of being any sort of confidante to a woman that had been his childhood enemy. "I see." After a brief pause, he continued. "So, I'll need to watch my language three or four nights a week. I can live with that."

"Three or four—no, that's not what I meant." Blaise said, drawing his eyebrows together in slight confusion. "All the time, Draco, not just when she's around."

"What!"

"I said I wouldn't tolerate that language, and I meant exactly what I said. No derogatory references to Hermione's heritage. Ever."

Draco brought a hand to his face, pinching his nose. "Oh."

"Can you do that?"

"Fine." He exhaled long and slow. "As long as you mean for her to adhere to the rules all the time too."

"Yes, of course."

"Good. Now, shall we eat?" he gestured in the direction of the kitchen.

"Let's," said Pansy. Blaise and Theo started towards the sunroom but she lingered slightly behind them. "Draco. . . are you alright?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. It's just. . . I've never seen you get so worked up about your family before. Not once in all the years I've known you." She looked at him closely, watching his expression for signs of discontent.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." She waited silently. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, irritation rising. Thinking about his relationship with his parents was the last thing he wanted to do now that he was back in England. "Really Pans. Leave it alone."

"Okay," she said. "Okay. But you know that I'm here if you need to talk, right? We all are."

"What, even Granger?" he snorted inelegantly.

She smiled. "You know, it wouldn't surprise me. She's the best person I know."

"Well, don't count on it. I doubt she wants to be my friend any more than I plan to be hers."

With that the pair of old friends left to go eat their brunch. As they walked into the kitchen neither noticed the brunette standing on the landing on the next floor. She stood silently, making her way back upstairs to think about everything she had heard.


End file.
